If You Were a Movie, This Would be Your Soundtrack
by The Emcee
Summary: When one thought about it, Russia and America – or, rather, Ivan and Alfred - fit together well and were meant to be together. It may not have made sense to anyone else, or even themselves, but even through their ups and downs, the bond they had created and shared over time remained unyielding and as strong as ever. RusAme. Full summary inside.
1. Scene I

Title: If You Were a Movie, This Would be Your Soundtrack

Author: The Emcee

Summary: When one thought about it, Russia and America – or, rather, Ivan and Alfred - fit together well and were meant to be together. It may not have made sense to anyone else, or even themselves, but even through their ups and downs, the bond they had created and shared over time remained unyielding and as strong as ever. Different points in their relationship helped made them the people and the couple they are today and there is no going back, even if they wanted to. And they don't.

Pairing: Russia/America

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, countries, Hetalia, the song lyrics, the title, or the band.

A/N: I just got into Hetalia and I've been reading different pairings and all of that jazz. One of my favorite pairings is RusAme and I decided to give it a try. Considering their personalities and everything, I thought that it'd make for a great story if I incorporated some music since everyone can related, in some way or another, to music. And what better band than Sleeping with Sirens? I hope you all like this and I hope I don't screw too much of it up. R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**If You Were a Movie, This Would be Your Soundtrack**

**~…~**

**Scene I: If I'm James Dean, You're Audrey Hepburn**

**~…~**

_Stay for tonight_

_If you want to_

_I can show you _

_What my dreams are made of_

_As I'm dreaming of your face_

~…~

It all started with the dreams.

Honestly, if someone had told Ivan that he'd one day be dreaming of Alfred, he would have laughed in their face before he broke it, smiling all the while. And yet, the little one's face plagued his dreams every single night as he slept. No matter what he was dreaming, whether it be of sunflowers and pandas or snow and war, Alfred was there. More often than not, he was smiling at Ivan, smiling a smile filled with so much warmth and sincerity and sheer _happiness_ at Ivan's mere presence that it completely floored the older nation. No one had ever smiled at him in such a manner, not ever, and if someone had smiled at him, it was full of terror and anxiety, not warmth and tenderness and…and love.

And yet the Alfred of Ivan's dreams smiled at him and made him feel as though he truly were important, wanted, _needed_.

Alfred didn't always smile, though, and Ivan was fine with that. People who smiled all of the time were hiding things; he, of all people, ought to know that. There were times in his dreams that Alfred would be angry at him and shout at him, even try and hit him a couple of times. And then there were times when Alfred would yell at him, but not in anger. Instead, it would be out of worry, concern, and fear, fear for Ivan and his wellbeing. It was usually during his dreams about war and bloodshed that Ivan's dream Alfred would do that, though. Not all of the time; just most of the time.

Ivan wondered constantly why he dreamt of Alfred so much. Had he dreamed of other nations? Yes. Once, he dreamed of bashing France's face in with a frog – how that worked, he didn't know, but such is the logic of the dream world. Alfred, however, was the one he dreamt of the most and soon, the younger nation was all Ivan dreamed about. Other nations would make the 'guest appearances' as they say, but they would leave and he would be alone with Alfred.

After pondering and scrutinizing as to why he was dreaming of Alfred so much, Ivan concluded that perhaps he was lonely and that his subconscious wished for his to seek out Alfred for companionship. While they may not always get along, and by always, he meant rarely ever, they had a lot in come. They were both super powers; both were more than capable on the battlefield and had witness more than enough bloodshed to last them a life time; and, when it came down to it, they were both quite lonely.

Yes, Alfred F. Jones, the great America himself, was just as lonely as Ivan was.

While they were both often surrounded by other countries, they were both terribly alone. Alfred had a lot of friends, but none of them went out of their way to be around him. Ivan had witnessed himself Britain and France and other nations rejecting the offer to join Alfred for a video game night or, even worse, give him their word that they'd come over and never show, making one excuse after another. Japan seemed to be the only one who was ever genuinely apologetic if he couldn't make it, but aside from him, the only other country Ivan saw hang around Alfred was Canada, more so because they were brothers than anything else. As for Ivan himself, very few people wanted much to do with him because of his past history and because they all feared him so. He didn't understand why; they were all friends, weren't they? Yet, things were still as they had always been, it seemed.

Therefore, Ivan concluded, being around Alfred more would erase the feeling of loneliness and emptiness for them both, right? It seemed like a good idea to him. So, he called Alfred up, knowing full well that the American was holed up in his home, probably bored and playing video games as he often did during the winter.

Sure enough, Alfred answered almost immediately.

"Yeah? What's up?" Alfred said, sounding, as Ivan had predicted, very bored.

"Amerika?" Ivan asked, feeling a bit hesitant and unsure, all things considered. After all, they weren't on hostile ground these days, not like they used to be, but they weren't the closest of allies either.

"Russia? What's goin' on, dude?" Alfred asked him. "Why are you calling me?"

"This may sound a bit out of the place, but I was wondering if you wanted to…what do you say…chill out some time?" Ivan asked. He knew that he was taking a risk; the odds that Alfred would say no were phenomenal.

"Seriously, dude? You wanna hang out with me?" Alfred ask, sounding just as amazed that Ivan had even asked as Ivan felt for asking in the first place. "I thought you hated my guts."

"Technically, yes, but one always has the love-hate relationship with oneself, do they not?" Ivan retorted. He still believed with all of his being that all would become one with Russia, someday, and people both loved and hated themselves all at once. So, it made the sense that Ivan both loved and hated Alfred, if only because they would be one someday. "But that is not of import. You see…I'm quite bored and…it is very quiet hear and you can be quite loud. Besides, we're all friends, are we not?"

"So, you're saying you're bored and lonely and want to hang out with me because I'm loud and obnoxious?" Alfred asked, sounding a bit confused and somewhat hesitant. Ivan couldn't blame him; the little one was probably suspicious of him suddenly calling out of the blue. The American probably thought he was plotting something.

"Precisely. I am glad that we see eye to eye on matters such as this," Ivan said, smiling even though Alfred couldn't see it. "I will see you shortly, da?"

"Wait. What?" Alfred began, but Ivan hung up the phone. In the end, it really didn't matter if Alfred had said yes or no because, honestly, what could he do if Ivan just showed up anyway? Neither one wanted a war, at least, not right now and not with each other.

When Ivan arrived at Alfred's place, he could see that the younger nation had, indeed, been playing video games. A pillow was lying on the floor not too far from the TV as was a controller and a half eaten bowl of popcorn. Ivan gave Alfred his usual smile.

"I have arrived as I said I would," Ivan said.

"Yeah, I can see that," Alfred replied before he moved back and opened the door enough to let the taller man inside. "I hope you don't mind playing video games. I probably have some board games stashed away somewhere, but I'd have to go rummaging through a few rooms to be sure."

"Video games are fine. I've never played video games," Ivan told him.

"Seriously, dude?! You've never played video games before? What the hell is wrong with you?" Alfred asked him, stunned, his blue eyes wide behind Texas.

"I am very serious. I've never had much time or reason for such things as video games," Ivan said.

"This…is so totally awesome! I finally get to kick your ass at something and not feel the sting of it later or deal with the awkward bullshit or anything like that!" Alfred cheered, his gloomy demeanor practically evaporating into thin air.

"Yes, you probably will…how did you phrase it?...be kicking my ass," Ivan replied.

"Close enough," Alfred said and then he calmed down. Now, he looked slightly uncomfortable. "So, why are you really here? I mean, you asking to hang out like this is really kinda sudden."

"Silly little one, that's very easy to explain," Ivan said, smiling. "You see, I've been dreaming of you constantly for months now and I figured that be around you would cure my loneliness and make the dreams stop." Alfred gazed at him for a moment before laughing slightly.

"Okaaaay," he said, prolonging the word. "Whatever, dude. Let's get to it, I guess."

And that was how it all started. From dreams to a random phone call on a boring day to actually hanging out, something changed. Just not in the way Ivan had anticipated.

_~…~_

_I've been away for a long time_

_Such a long time_

_And I miss you there_

_I can't imagine being anywhere else_

_I can't imagine being anywhere else but here_

_~…~_

It had been a long time since Ivan had had the chance to really talk to or hang out with Alfred.

After that phone call on that faithful day, he and the younger nation had started to spend more time together than they had originally thought was going to happen. Things had been weird and awkward at first. Mostly, Ivan would show up at random periods at just accompany Alfred in whatever he was doing, be it video games, gardening, fireworks, and anything and everything in between. It was very nice, spending so much time with Alfred, but the dreams didn't stop like Ivan had thought they would.

No, instead, they continued and even intensified into lust filled hazes of pleading blue eyes, wanton fingers tracing out every muscle and scar on his body, and heated, breathy, passion filled moans that made Ivan incredibly hard. After each dream, Ivan would wake up hard and aching, craving that which only Alfred was able to give him.

The loneliness didn't stay away either. When he was with Alfred, it did, but whenever they parted ways, it returned, often times stronger than what it was previously. Ivan did not understand it and, at times, it frustrated him to the point where only break the teeth out of someone's mouth with an orange and a fingernail file could sooth him. Of course, keeping his desires to himself was all but impossible. After all, it was inevitable that all would become one with Russia and after living with such seductive and heated dreams as he had been having for months, nearly a year now, on end was torture for anybody.

On Alfred's birthday, America's Independence Day, everything changed between them. Ivan couldn't help himself, not when he had been having such a good time watching the fireworks with Alfred and hearing and seeing how his face light up at each and every one of the bursting stars. He had looked so…happy, utterly happy and carefree; it was an expression Ivan wanted directed at him and him alone. Nobody else. The kiss had been intentional, but he hadn't expected Alfred to kiss him back. And he did.

One thing led to another, naturally, and before Ivan knew it, he had Alfred naked on the blanket they had spread out to watch the fireworks, moaning and begging for Ivan to touch him. It was one of the best nights the older nation had ever had. Never before had he came so hard, his vision whiting out as an animalistic growl tore from his throat as he claimed Alfred as his own.

Things had definitely changed after that.

The other nations could tell as well. While neither he nor Alfred had told anyone yet about them, he knew that the others thought it was strange that they were spending time together. Even before they first had sex, the others seemed to think something was going on.

Britain was more uptight than usual. He had been acting harsher towards Alfred, taking every chance he could to degrade and second guess the American. And yet, he also seemed to be more…possessive? Was that the right word? Protective? Either way, whenever Ivan would say something during a meeting or take a step toward Alfred, Britain would interrupt or get in his way. It annoyed him very much so and he did not appreciate what Britain was trying to do.

France, however, seemed to be more accepting. He kept talking about love and how even the ugliest, cruelest beast could find someone to be with. Ivan wasn't sure if France was talking about him and if he was, well then, he would just have to teach France to play nice. However, there were times when France would converse quietly with Britain and he would send a look of horror or terror in Ivan's direction.

China, thankfully, didn't care. He was just happy that Ivan was leaving him alone.

So, needless to say, it was hard for them to really talk or anything before, during, or after the meetings, although they did steal quick kisses whenever they could. Perhaps Ivan would even take it further soon.

But that was when he finally got to see Alfred and talk to him and spend time with him. He had been away for so very long and phone calls just did not cut it, not for him, and he knew not for Alfred either. Right now, as he lay in his bed trying – and failing – to get some rest before the world meeting tomorrow, Ivan wanted nothing more than to be with Alfred, hold his little one in his arms, kiss him, touch him, and make love to him. The past year had left him wanting nothing more than to have Alfred by his side always.

_~…~_

_How the hell did you ever pick me?_

_Honestly, I could sing you a song_

_But I don't think words could express your beauty_

_It's singing to me_

_~…~_

After the world meeting, Alfred all but dragged Ivan out of the conference room and into a dark, unused room in another part of the building. No words were exchanged; they didn't need to be. Both of them needed each other's touch and love more than words could ever express and neither of them wanted to waste time on words anyway.

Alfred kissed him with a fierce and fiery passion that took Ivan's breath away. He returned it with just as much desire and need, backing Alfred up against the wall. His fingers immediately dove underneath Alfred's clothes, feeling the smooth, tan skin, reveling in the warmth of his lover.

Clothing was quickly shed and strewn about the floor around them, hands and fingers fumbling gracelessly with buttons and zippers. They kissed as though a thousand years had passed and that they may never see each other ever again. Up until now, it had only been sex for the both of them. Ivan had never expressed any words of love and neither had Alfred. But now, with Alfred withering under his touch and gaze, pleading shamelessly for Ivan to do something, anything, to satisfy his arousal.

Unable to prolong it any longer, Ivan entered Alfred's familiar, tight warmth and moaned loudly. Pressing his face against the younger nation's neck, Ivan panted softly before he began his thrusts. His lips pressed opened mouthed kisses to tanned skin and one hand grasped Alfred's hip tightly while the other wrapped itself around Alfred's weeping arousal, stroking him erratically.

Hearing Alfred's moans, gasps, and pants was music to Ivan's ears and he didn't realize until then how much he had missed being with Alfred. Ivan didn't even miss the sex; he just…missed Alfred. Everything that Alfred was, everything he brought with him, Ivan had missed it, missed him. The loneliness went away when Alfred was with him and he believed, truly believed with all that he was, that he finally had a friend, that he finally belonged somewhere.

When he finally came, after Alfred came all over his hand and their stomachs, it was the best feeling in the whole entire world. He collapsed against Alfred, feeling as though his legs and the rest of his body was made of Jell-O. Such a sensation brought back their first time together.

'You…um, you were…the first, y'know,' Alfred had said to him. Ivan looked at him, puzzled.

'First what, Amerika?'

'Lover,' Alfred had answered, blushing and looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. Ivan had smiled at him then, truly smiled, and he had ran a hand through those golden locks.

'I hope it won't be the only time, da,' he had replied honestly.

Back then, Ivan had thought that he was lucky to not be alone anymore, at least in that instance. Now, he realized that he wasn't lucky just because he was no longer alone. There were plenty of countries who probably would have jumped at the chance to be Alfred's first, to claim America in some sense. Knowing that Britain and France hadn't succeeded in that venture definitely made Ivan feel special. Out of all of the other countries, Alfred chose him.

Gazing at Alfred now after realizing such a thing, embracing him in his strong arms, Ivan couldn't help but think that the younger nation looked breathtakingly beautiful. His face was still flushed, his hair was matted and sweaty, and he looked completely happy and satisfied; in short, Alfred was beautiful. Seeing it touched something within Ivan. He wasn't sure what it was and he didn't yet know if he liked it or not, but he wasn't going to try and suppress it either.

"Hey," Alfred said at long last, giving Ivan a goofy smile, the one he only ever got after sex. Ivan smiled back at him and nuzzled Alfred's neck, breathing in the scent of sweat, sex, and Alfred.

"Hello, little one," Ivan replied.

"Want to go another round?" Alfred said, grinning, hope and desire shining brightly in those eyes of his.

"Yes, but perhaps here is not the best place," Ivan suggested.

"I'll have to agree with you there," Alfred said and laughed. "The last thing I need is for Britain to see us goin' at it and for that stick up his ass to get even bigger." Ivan couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Alfred could say the funniest things at times.

_~…~_

_How the hell did we end up like this?_

_You bring out the beast in me_

_I fell in love from the moment we kissed_

_Since then we've been history_

_~…~_

Looking back on it, thinking about how it had all started with Alfred, Ivan could plainly see that it had all happened really very quickly. Becoming addicted to Alfred like a drug, needing his presence and missing him almost constantly, had happened almost overnight. Thinking on it long and hard and evaluating his own odd, eradic emotions, he couldn't say that it had happened just because he was lonely. He had been quite lonely many, many years before Alfred was even found and yet Ivan never reached out to the other nations around him for companionship in the way he reached, sometimes literally, for the younger nation.

Was Ivan scared? In a sense, yes. But he was Russia and Russia feared nothing. He jumped out of airplanes with no parachute because he knew that snow would break his fall - it was that boulder that broke his back after all, not the snow covering it and making it look like it wasn't even there.

Alfred, however, was not a boulder covered in snow.

He was America, a super power just like Ivan was and they had been opposing forces for so long that the sudden change in their relationship was, well, rather sudden. Ivan found that he very much liked it, though, and he wanted to see where it would lead them both. They were two sides of a coin, in a way. Aflred was the heads, the bright side, the good side, while Ivan was the tails, the dark side, the bad side, the one no one wanted to be around.

They were opposites in many ways, yes, and yet they complimented each other in a way that other nations didn't. It made little sense, that much was true, but when one actually thought about it, it made perfect sense. Ivan and the way he was brought out the best in Alfred; Russia made America strive for greater, better thing because of what and who he was. And, on the other side, America motivated Russia even more to have all of the nations in his house, for all of them to become one with him, and to be the greatest nation there was.

Even now, in their time of 'peace' and 'friendship', America and Russia pushed and challenged one another in ways that the other countries did not. Neither of them backed down and were never going to. Failure was not an option for either of them. It was everything or nothing.

Because Russia brought out the hero in America.

And America brought out the beast in Russia.

But when it was just the two of them, when they were just Alfred and Ivan, kisses were exchanged, heated eyes full of desire and need gazed into eyes that were just as heated, and words were whispered that could never be taken back. Who they were when they were together was different than who they were when they were around others or when they were talking the business, as they say. Mixing the business with the pleasure was not a wise thing to do, and they both understood that.

However, Ivan had to admit that he had become attached to Alfred in many ways. He would be a fool to say that it was love at first sight; that would be silly. Yet he would also be a fool to say that love was not there. They had been together for more than a year and a half by now - time flew by very quickly for countries in comparison to normal people, da - and Ivan knew that he was in love with Alfred. How could one not love him? Alfred reminded him of sunflowers and summer and the sea and white clouds, and pure, white snow, and everything else that Ivan held dear.

They had not yet said those three little words, though. Ivan had never said them to anyone before and he found it hard to do so. There was, after all, the possibility that Alfred didn't feel the same way. If that was the case, than Ivan would rather go on not knowing. Such a rejection, he knew, would turn him into hard, compact ice. He would rather have Alfred and keep him as they were now than risk it all and destroy all they had created together.

_~...~_

_They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need_

_Please stay as long as you need_

_Can't promise that things won't be broken_

_But I swear that I will never leave_

_Please stay forever with me_

_(If you want to, I can show you)_

_~...~_

"I love you," Alfred blurted out suddenly before a blush turned his face crimson. Ivan blinked at him, stunned that the younger nation had said that to him. He had not expected that, not in one hundred years. And yet, there they were. Out in the open for them both to see and hear and feel.

Alfred moved to roll over and out of the bed, but Ivan's senses quickly came back to him. Reaching out, he grabbed his little one and pulled him into his strong arms. With a big smile on his face, feeling very happy and reassured, Ivan buried his face in Alfred's hair, inhaling his scent and holding him as close to his body as he could without killing him.

"Ya lyublyu tebya," Ivan said, his smile obvious in his vocie. He kissed Alfred's hair lovingly and when Alfred rolled over to meet his gaze, his own eyes revealing his surprise at the returned sentiment, Ivan kissed his lips.

When he pulled away from Alfred's lips, he pressed his forehead against his lover's. With closed eyes and a smile on his face, Ivan spoke.

"Stay with me?" he asked, allowing himself to hope.

Since his eyes were closed, he didn't see the endearing smile on Alfred's face, but he did feel his warm, soft lips when the younger nation kissed him. Naturally, he returned the kissed and gripped Alfred harder, suddenly wanting to never release his precious sunflower ever again.

"You didn't have to ask," Alfred said when their kiss ended. He smiled at Ivan and added, "I'm not going anywhere."

_~...~_

_It goes to show, I hope that you know you are_

_What my dreams are made of_

_And I can't fall asleep_

_I lay in my bed awake at night_

_And I'll fall in love, you'll fall in love_

_It could mean everything, everything to me_

_Ooh, ooh_

_This could mean everything to me_

_~...~_

The dreams didn't stop, even after two years of being with Alfred.

But what did stop for the most part were his dreams about snow, bloodshed, and war. Very rarely did he have dreams like that anymore. Compared to the dreams he was having now, Ivan could say that he didn't miss them. Instead, his dreams were about Alfred and sunshine and sunflowers.

He dreamed of sun-kissed skin seared by scars of wars past.

He dreamed of claiming Alfred inside and out, owning him in every way imaginable and taking of and protecting him from those who threatened them.

He dreamed of merely sitting beside the younger nation, talking and listening about inconsequential things.

Ivan dreamed about a life of love with Alfred.

There was no denying it now. Without a shadow of a doubt, Ivan knew that he was in love with Alfred and he wanted it and wanted everything with Alfred. It was a love that could bring them both down, that could drown them and consume them entirely. Ivan knew this; he welcomed it. Never before had he felt such a crushing feeling before. But he liked it; he could feel it giving him power and strength even as he laid there in bed, awake, thinking about all of it.

Somehow, without him fully realizing and comprehending it, Alfred had become extremely important to him. He had invaded his dreams and his mind, even his heart. The American was on his mind almost all of the time. Ivan knew that just being around Alfred would not be enough. Soon, he would bring Alfred back home with him to keep and when that happened, he was never going to let him go. Ivan had no plans of letting him go now.

Alfred was becoming everything to Ivan in such a short amount of time. Two years, when one thought about it, was nothing for a nation. What was surprising was how Ivan felt for the younger nation. He certainly hadn't been expecting to fall in love when he first started having the dreams. But he had and he knew that such a love as he felt right now gave him immense strength. In short, he felt as though he would rule the world soon, which was destined to do as all would become one with Russia anyway.

Turning over on his side, Ivan stared at the empty spot on the bed. Alfred should be there, but he had to be a good little country and see to his people. If he merged with Russia, they would be able to figure things out faster and they would be stronger and far more powerful. Not only that, but he would have Alfred with him in bed every night. Ivan smiled at such a thought. That would be truly wonderful.

_~...~_

_They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need_

_Please stay as long as you need_

_Can't promise that things won't be broken_

_But I swear that I will never leave_

_Please stay forever_

_~...~_

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Alfred shouted at him.

Ivan, who had been leaving, turned around and, within a matter of seconds, had his hand around Alfred's throat, his back slammed and pinned roughly against the wall, and his feet hovering a few inches above the floor. Although he could see a slight tinge of fear in his lover's blue eyes, there was still that fierce defiance and determination that drew everybody in. Gazing into those eyes, seeing those emotions, Ivan felt his rage being to dwindle ever so slightly.

"What I do is the best, little America," he said through gritted teeth. "It must be done and so I must do it. Surely, a super power such as yourself would understand, da?" His eyes flashed with warning and he watched as Alfred gulped.

Slowly, the American's anger began to subside and fade. His body slumped and Ivan let him go. He watched as the younge nation leaned against the wall, his legs shaking ever so slightly. Ivan had known Alfred long enough to see these things, things that other nations did not bother to see or look for. His heart throbbed with pain as he watched his lover regain his composure. Feeling bad about everything, his visit, him suddenly being called away, Ivan stepped closer to Alfed. He could feel the other's body heat and longed for it now more than ever.

"You just got here," Alfred said, looking so very sad, his eyes cast downward, but Ivan could see that they were shining brightly with unshed tears. His eyes looked beautiful like this and yet Ivan hated that he was causing his little one so much pain.

"I know," Ivan replied softly.

"We haven't been together in months. With everything that's been going on, it's hard to just get some alone time with you," Alfred continued, his voice low and soft. "And now, you're leaving..."

Alfred didn't need to say anymore. Ivan understood perfectly well what Alfed was feeling. He felt it as well and it crushed him to have to leave Alfred so soon. But he would be back as soon as he finished and then they could spend more time together than they had originally planned.

With a small smile on his face, Ivan reached out and pulled Alfred to him, enveloping him in a tight, warm hug. He felt Alfred bury his face against his neck and he felt a wetness there after a few seconds. Those tears were finally being set free. Burying his face in Alfred's hair, Ivan inhaled his scent, missing him already before he even had the chance to leave. Yes, he would be back and soon, but that did not making leaving any easier for either of them.

"Do not fret, solnyshko. I will be back before you know it and then we will have more time together," Ivan reassured Alfred and himself. "You shall see and then all will be well again."

Alfred pulled away from him slightly and looked up into his eyes. His eyes were red and puffy from the tears and Ivan felt his heart tug again painfully. Ivan leaned forward and pressed a soft his to Alfred's head. That made Alfred smile a little, sad smile. He was trying so hard to be brave even though it was hard for him to let Ivan go. Knowing that made Ivan's heart soar; knowing that Alfred never wanted him to leave, knowing that the younger nation felt the same as he did, greatly reassured him.

"You promise that you'll be back soon?" Alfred asked him, sounding like a child who didn't want to get his hopes up even though they already were. It made Ivan smile even wider.

"Of course, I promise. It is only little matter, nothing more," Ivan told him. "Once I am finished, there will be more time for us to spend together."

"Well, that's good to hear," Alfred replied, his normal smile beginning to return. Ah, how Ivan loved that smile, especially when it was directed at him. "You'd better come back to me, you bastard, you I'll just have to invade you to get your ass back."

"Oh, little America, you can try to invade me but you would fail. All will become one with Russia, after all," Ivan told him before he kissed Alfred.

The kiss with returned with a desperate frevor. Ivan knew that being away would be even harder this time, but he had to do it. And it wasn't as though he wouldn't be back because he would be. But that didn't make the separation any easier.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alfred replied, rolling his eyes before he looked back up at Ivan. "Just be back soon, okay? Or I really will come and get you."

"I will be back shortly, little one. I promise," Ivan said before kissing him good-bye again. "I must be going."

"Have a nice trip," Alfred told him. "Try not to sleep with too many Russian babes while you're gone," he added jokingly. Ivan turned to him, his smile soft and loving as he gazed at the younger nation.

"There is only one 'babe' I sleep with, as you say, and that would be you, silly," Ivan replied. The blush that spread across the American's face was adorable.

_~...~_

_The way that we are_

_It's the reason I stay_

_As long as you're here with me_

_I know I'll be okay_

_~...~_

His return to Alfred's house was met with a tackle from the American and hungry lips crushing against his. Ivan returned the kiss with just as much want and desire before he lifted Alfred up and carried him into the house. They never made it to the bedroom.

Afterwards, when they had finished, Ivan sighed in happiness and content. He pulled Alfred against his bare body and kissed his hair, his forehead, and everywhere on his face. Finally, after a week of being away, Ivan felt complete and whole once more.

_~...~_

_They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need_

_Please stay, please stay as long as you need_

_Can't promise that things won't be broken_

_But I swear that I will never leave_

_Please stay forever with me_

_(It goes to show, I hope that you know you are_

_What my dreams are made of)_

_(It goes to show, I hope that you know you are_

_What my dreams are made of)_

_(They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need)_

_Please stay, please stay as long as you need_

_~...~_

"I love you," Ivan whispered in Alfred's ear as he curled around the smaller nation. He nipped and kissed the back of Alfred's neck, growling hungrily as the felt the American shift back, his firm bottom brushing against his arousal.

"I love you too, Ivan," Alfred replied before he pressed their lips together.

They hadn't left the bedroom since Ivan had returned home - after their first round in the living room, of course. Neither one wanted to get up and leave the other for whatever reason. How long had they been in bed now? It was dark outside, but that didn't matter. Nothing matter right now except that they were together again. And the longer Ivan held Alfred, the longer the younger nation remained in his presence, the better he felt.

When he entered Alfred, it was just like their first time. No matter how many times they did this, Alfred was still so very _tight_ and that feeling only made things that much better for Ivan. He moaned as he fully sheathed himself inside his lover and panted softly. Stilling himself, he listened to Alfred's own pants and moans, his hands running up and down the tanned chest, caressing every scar as he did so.

He pulled out nearly all of the way before thrusting back in, creating a desperate rhythm. Ivan wasn't going to last long; they had been in bed for a while now and his body was nearly drained of energy. Alfred, he knew, felt the same way; he was so sensitive to each touch and when Ivan wrapped a hand around his arousal, he gasped loudly, as though it was the first time they had done this. His thrusts became frantic, faster, and harder and Alfred's loud moans and gasps were only egging him on, making him so faster and harder.

Soon, Alfred was coming over his hand, moaning loudly while his entire body shuddered. That was all Ivan needed. With one final hard thrust, burying himself deep within his lover's body, Ivan came, groaning softly as he normally did. Panting quietly, he held Alfred in his arms and kissed the top of his ear affectionately. This...this was what love was like, he thought to himself as his eyes began to droop.

If this was what Aflred's love was like, he could stay like this forever.

_~...~_

_(It goes to show, I hope that you know you are_

_What my dreams are made of)_

_(It goes to show, I hope that you know you are_

_What my dreams are made of)_

_(They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need)_

_(They say that love is forever_

_Your forever is all that I need)_

_Please stay forever with me_

_~...~_

**~...~**

**End Scene I**

**~...~**


	2. Scene II

A/N: This one isn't going to be as long as the first one. To be honest, I hadn't expected the first one to be as long as it was. But it is what it is. I hope you all like it! R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**Scene II: Roger Rabbit**

**~…~**

_~…~_

_Is there a right way for how this goes?_

_You got your friends and you got your foes_

_They want a piece of something hot_

_Forget your name like they forgot_

_Oh_

_Ain't that something?_

_~…~_

For as long as he could remember, ever since he had become his own independent nation really, Alfred has been alone. Surrounded as he was by various other countries, he still felt alone and detached, as though he didn't and would never truly belong, be one of them. At first, he didn't realize it; he was too busy and happy and proud that he was no longer under Arthur's control, that he was his own country with no ruler or master. But as the years wore away, he began to see it.

Friends and foes alike often treated him the same. Most of them thought he was stupid and ignorant and arrogant and loud and annoying…the list could go on. They only ever acted buddy-buddy when they wanted something from him. None of them ever saw his achievements, none of them ever acknowledged his contributions to the world or readily admitted that some of his ideas were actually pretty damn good – they did so grudgingly and unenthusiastically, if at all. No one ever expected a lot out of him and no one ever gave him praise for any of his accomplishments.

It was like he wasn't even a person. America existed, but not Alfred F. Jones. It was like the others didn't know or care that he had feelings and was hurt by what they said right in front of him. No, they thought he was too stupid to even realize that he was being insulted. He was beneath them, being so young and so 'inexperienced' as he was, and even deemed 'useless' on many occasions.

Of course, why should things be any different?

_~…~_

_Some want to see you crash and burn_

_Criticize your every word_

_I'm trynna keep from going insane_

_Ain't that the way of this whole damn thing?_

_Oh_

_Trying to be something more_

_~…~_

Arthur, the one who had basically raised him and brought him up and helped him grow into the great nation he was today, was usually the first one to insult and criticize him. Alfred expected it; Arthur didn't get over things quickly and he was still very sore and hurt by the Revolution. He understood that, but Alfred no longer held a grudge against the older nation for what he had done. In all honesty, Arthur was the one nation that Alfred was really close to, which made perfect sense. Yet, he still held onto the past with an iron fist and he still treated Alfred like a child, with contempt and an air of superiority that eventually got to the younger nation.

Francis was like that as well, just not as bad. He was just a pervert, Alfred knew, and he usually reserved all of his heated arguments and insults for Arthur. That didn't mean that he wouldn't team up with Arthur and gang up on Alfred for their own, personal amusement whenever they saw fit. Alfred friend very hard to not let them get to him, and most of the time, he succeeded. Most of the time. There were times when he just couldn't help it and everything that had been building up within him erupted, causing him to suffer through large bouts of depression which often lasted longer than the one before it.

Yao just thought he was an asshole, and, yes, Alfred admitted that he could be. But what did you expect when he put up with so much bullshit from everyone around him, including those who were supposed to be his 'friends'? It wasn't as though he purposefully set out to be one, but there were times when he just…couldn't stop himself.

And Ivan…

Alfred couldn't deny it; he found Ivan attractive and he was attracted to the Russian. But they were very different and the tension between them made meetings and, well, everything difficult. However, Alfred wasn't sure if that's because those were his actual feelings or if he had adopted the opinions of those around him – even though they were all dickbags who hated his guts, which made no sense as to why he'd listen to them in the first place. He did though and, as a result, his opinion of Ivan was very low.

At first.

_~…~_

_Nobody's gonna love you _

_If you can't display a way to capture this_

_Nobody's gonna hold your hand_

_And guide you through_

_No, it's up for you to understand_

_Nobody's gonna feel your pain_

_When all is done and it's time for you to walk away_

_So when you have today_

_You should say all that you have to say_

_(Oh, say all that you have to say)_

_(Oh)_

_~…~_

Time went on and, eventually, Alfred began to get to know Ivan. He was surprised, actually, how well they could get along outside of meetings and wars and the critical, suspicious eyes of their fellow allies and nations. Soon, Alfred began to get comfortable around Ivan, but he still kept his distance and tried not to get attached. After all, he had gotten attached to Arthur and look at what happened.

Perhaps he had good reason to be wary of Ivan; he _was_ Russia after all. The older nation had a history of bloodshed, wars, and pain that was even worse than most of the other nations Alfred knew. His mentally was cracked and no one knew what he was capable of.

Then again, it was probably more due to his own insecurities. Alfred had been alone for so long; even under Arthur's reign, as the older nation never lived with him for extended periods of time (weeks, at the most, when he was still very young). How could he be sure that Ivan's intentions were pure? As countries, being allies, forming an alliance, or whatever else, did have major advantages, but as people? What could Ivan gain by being with Alfred? What did he want in the end? To rule America and claim him as his own? Bragging rights for being the one to lay with him when no one else had had that opportunity? Or did he just want to fuck with his mind and pervert and twist him into a corrupt being?

Whatever the reasons for Ivan's interest in him, Alfred fought like hell not to become dependent on him or attached to him. After all, no one loved him – what was there to love, really? No one understood him – they all thought he was too stupid and that there wasn't much to understand anyway. No one felt his pain – how could they when they actually had friends who had their backs and didn't think so very lowly of them? No one heard his voice or his longing for companionship.

No one cared.

_~…~_

_Is there a right way for being strong?_

_Feels like I'm doing things all wrong_

_Still I'm here just holding on_

_Confess my heart and forgive my wrongs_

_Oh, just trying to show you something more_

_~…~_

Time wore on and Alfred became involved with Ivan. They got closer, very close, and, eventually, Alfred succumbed to Ivan's charms – yes, Ivan could be very charming, especially since he didn't even realize that he was to begin with. He couldn't say that he didn't want it; he wanted it very much as a matter of fact.

He was very inexperienced, but Ivan didn't seem to mind that. His kisses tasted like fire and vodka; his hands felt hot and cold on his naked body; and his voice causes delicious shivers and shudders to run down all over his body. And when Ivan entered Alfred for the very first time, it was like Heaven on Earth. Having never had sex before, Alfred hadn't known what to expect exactly except that it was going to hurt. And yes, while there was a little bit of pain, the pleasure he felt from Ivan's arousal and his hands all over his body

Wave after wave of pleasure engulfed him and before he knew it, he was coming, screaming Ivan's name. A few seconds later, Ivan came inside of him, filling him up with his seed. His body felt tingly all over, so very sensitive to everything; Ivan's breath, his fingers, even the light breeze that floated into the room from the open window caused him to shiver deliciously.

Afterwards, Alfred had confessed to Ivan that he had been a virgin, something that wasn't easy for him to do. He was putting his heart on his sleeve and Ivan could basically do whatever he wanted to with it. Alfred was trusting him not to break it.

"You…um, you were…the first, y'know," Alfred told him, blushing furiously.

"First what, Amerika?" Ivan asked him, blinking at him in confusion, looking puzzled and far too sweet and innocent for such a country. Alfred's blush could only deepen.

"Lover," he replied, his voice sounding small and frightened as he turned redder than a tomato. Ivan probably thought he was being a pussy or something; or he probably thought that he could now easily gain power over him now that he had more of Alfred's trust.

Instead, Alfred felt Ivan's strong hands on his hair, caressing his scalp and his locks. Opening his blue eyes, the younger nation looked at his new lover with uncertainty and hope, his heart pounding all the while.

"I hope it won't be the only time, da," Ivan said, the smile on his face so genuine and reassuring that it caused tears to prick Alfred's eyes.

Part of him wondered then if he had been wrong to keep his distance all this time, and if he was wrong still distancing himself even now, even after all they had shared together. Not giving himself entirely to Ivan, not trusting him with everything, now felt so wrong to him. Even before they had slept together, it had started feeling wrong. Could he have been wrong about Ivan all this time? It was possible and it wouldn't be the first time someone had been wrong about the great Russia, although that usually wasn't in a good sense.

Could Alfred still be strong even if he gave himself to Ivan and poured his heart out to him? Would Ivan listen to him and understand or would he laugh in Alfred's face and use whatever information he was given to take control of the younger nation? If the latter were to happen, would Alfred have the strength to move past all of it and carry on or would he drown? Was he even willing to take his chances?

In truth, Ivan had told Alfred more about himself than Alfred had told Ivan. There was already a trust there, one of unbroken vows to never tell their secrets. Could he honestly let go and eventually tell Ivan how he felt? Alfred wanted to, he truly did. He wanted to show Ivan that he trusted him and that there was more to them than there was to them right now.

So, eventually, Alfred blurted out those three little words that could make or break them, that could make or break him.

"I love you."

And there is was, out in the open for them both to hear and feel and _know_. The likelihood of rejection was high; after all, other nations had rejected him – not outright but in other various subtle ways – so why wouldn't Ivan do the same? Perhaps it had all been a mistake; perhaps he had been reading too much into whatever they had together. Maybe it was all just done because they were both lonely and they didn't want to feel that way anymore.

Now he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wouldn't be able to handle it if Ivan rejected him too. It would be too much; it would be too unbearable.

Alfred moved to roll out of bed and just _run away_. But Ivan grabbed onto him and pulled him into a strong armed embrace. Oh, how Alfred loved those strong arms; they made him feel safe and warm and protected and…and so very _loved_.

"Ya lyublyu tebya," Ivan responded, a large, sincere smile on his face. Alfred turned his head to face him, his eyes wide with surprise and hope.

"What?" he asked, feeling stupid for not even attempting to learn a tiny bit of Russian.

"I love you, Alfred," Ivan told him, still smiling.

And then they kissed. It wasn't a passionate, heated, all-consuming kiss. No, it was an innocent, sweet, and chaste kiss, a kiss that held promise and love and a future and dreams and hope. A kiss that topped all other of their kisses. A kiss that made both of their hearts sing and soar high above the clouds and the stars.

"Stay with me" Ivan asked him, sounding much like Alfred had only moments before.

Alfred smiled a smile of love and happiness. He kissed Ivan, never wanting to let go of him, and when he felt Ivan kiss him back and hold him close, he felt a surge of happiness shoot throughout his entire body.

"You didn't have to ask," he answered the older nation when they reluctantly broke apart. "I'm not going anywhere."

It was in that moment that he realized that he and Ivan were one in the same. They had both been so very lonely and afraid, and now, they didn't need to be that way anymore because they had each other. And that was something wonderful.

_~…~_

_Nobody's gonna love you if_

_You can't display a way to capture this_

_Nobody's gonna hold your hand_

_And guide you through_

_No, it's up for you to understand_

_Nobody's gonna feel your pain_

_When all is done and it's time for you to walk away_

_When you have today_

_You should say all that you have to say_

_~…~_

Alfred finally, at long last, realized that he had been wrong. All of the times when he thought that no one loved him, that no one understood him, that no one felt or knew his pain, that no one heard his voice or his cries for companionship, and that no one cared, he was wrong.

Ivan loved him.

Ivan understood him.

Ivan felt and knew his pain, having been put through more hell than Alfred had.

Ivan heard his voice and his cries for companionship.

Ivan cared.

Oh, how wrong Alfred had been. How very, very wrong he had been.

_~…~_

_Don't point the blame when you can't find nothing_

_Look to yourself and you might find something_

_It's time that we sorted out_

_All of the things we complain about_

_So listen close to the sound of your soul_

_Take back a life you led once before_

_Instead of you then who?_

_Instead of you then who is gonna love you?_

_~…~_

To say that Alfred was pissed was to say that the _Titanic_ had a minor accident. He was furious, more so than he can ever remember being. It wasn't often that they, as countries, got vacations, so when Ivan told him that he would be on vacation for about two to three weeks and that they could spend all of that time together, Alfred had been more than ecstatic. He had been overjoyed and excited and bounced around with exuberance all of the damn time up until the very day of Ivan's arrival at his house.

And then, not long after Ivan had arrived, he had received a call from his boss and he told Alfred that he needed to return to sort something out. Now, the logical part of Alfred's brain knew and understood that Ivan would just up and leave unless it was a very, _very_ good reason; Alfred was the same way. But the irrational and emotion part of his brain, the part that almost always took over, didn't give a shit. Ivan had given him his word that he would stay and he was just up and leaving before he even had a chance to settle in.

What the fuck?!

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Alfred shouted at him, unable to stop himself. He knew that Ivan wasn't too happy about it either; actually, he could tell, barely so, that Ivan was angry about being called away, and Alfred wasn't making things better by calling him an asshole when this was out of the older nation's hands.

So, unsurprisingly, even though it did come as a shock, Ivan retaliated. With one of his large hands wrapped around Alfred's throat, he slammed him up against the closest wall and pinned him there, lifting him up off of his feet a few inches above the floor. Was Alfred afraid? Obviously yes; this was Russia, after all. But more than anything else, he was hurt and sad, but he wasn't going to back down. Every couple had their arguments and although Alfred knew he was destined to lose this one, he was still going to fight. That was the American way, after all.

"What I do is the best, little America," Ivan told him, his voice icy. It would have made any other country cower in fear. Not Alfred. "It must be done and so I must do it. Surely, a super power such as yourself would understand, da?" His violet eyes flashed a warning and that made Alfred gulp. He couldn't help it. While he would cower and beg and snivel, he couldn't deny Ivan's raw strength and power either.

Gazing into the eyes of his lover, Alfred felt his anger give way to sadness and hurt. He knew that Ivan couldn't help it; his boss had given him an order and orders needed to be obeyed; that's why they were orders. Neither of them could tell their bosses no; they were countries and they had great responsibilities. That didn't make things better though and that didn't stop Alfred from feeling the things he felt.

Ivan released his hold and Alfred slumped against the wall, his legs shaking too badly to hold him up properly. He had to pull it together. It wasn't like Ivan was breaking up with him; he just needed to go to work for a little while to straighten something up. Nothing more and nothing less. But that didn't make the pain go away. Alfred had been looking forward to this for a long time now and he hated that Ivan had been called away before their vacation even started. It was almost as bad as those times when Arthur had come to visit him back when he was just a colony and promised to return shortly, only to be gone for years at a time. This was worse, however, because Alfred was more aware of the world and where exactly he stood in the minds and opinions of the countries around him.

But how could he sum all of that up simply? Was it even possible to do so?

"You just got here," Alfred said, feeling very small and very sad, his eyes cast downward. He could feel the tears, but he wasn't going to let them fall; he was tired of tears.

"I know," Ivan said, sounding just as sad and regretful.

"We haven't been together in months. With everything that's been going on, it's hard to just get some alone time with you," Alfred tried to explain. He hoped he succeeded. "And now, you're leaving…"

Before he knew it, Ivan had pulled him into a tight hug. Alfred returned it at once, clinging to the bigger nation as though his very existence depended on it. The tears that had threatened to fall finally did so and Alfred buried his face against Ivan's neck. His entire body shook and Ivan's arms tightened around him. God, was he going to miss this for another...however long Ivan would be gone.

"Do not fret, solnyshko. I will be back before you know it and then we will have more time together," Ivan said, his voice soft and reassuring while his hands rubbed Alfred's back. "You shall see and then all will be well again." Alfred pulled back slightly to look up into his lover's violet eyes.

"You promise that you'll be back soon?" Alfred asked. He knew that he sounded like a little kid, but he didn't care. When Ivan made a promise, he kept it. Always.

"Of course, I promise. It is only little matter, nothing more," Ivan told him. "Once I am finished, there will be more time for us to spend together. My boss has sworn this to me."

"Well, that's good to hear," Alfred said. And then, he gave Ivan as much of a smile as he could muster. "You'd better come back to me, you bastard, or I'll just have to invade you to get your ass back." At that, Ivan laughed and the sound lightened Alfred's heart, it only a little.

"Oh, little Amerika, you can try to invade me but you will fail. All will become one with Russia, after all," Ivan said before he kissed him. It took Alfred's breath away.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Alfred replied. "Just be back soon, okay? Or I really will come and get you." Because not all of the kisses in the world would make the separation easier for both of them.

"I will be back shortly, little one. I promise," Ivan answered before giving him another kiss. "I must be going."

"Have a nice trip," Alfred told him as he escorted Ivan to the front door. Jokingly, more for him than Ivan, he added, "Try not to sleep with too many Russian babes while you're gone." The look Ivan gave him weakened his knees. It was full of all of the love and tenderness and kindness that Alfred could ever want and more.

"There is only one 'baby' I sleep with, as you say, and that would be you, silly," Ivan said.

Hearing that made Alfred blush. It also reassured him that Ivan had no intentions of leaving him for anyone else. If was going to, then he would have already.

The sound of the front door closing behind Ivan was deafening and, after a moment of staring at the door, Alfred walked into the living room. Sitting down, he stared at the dark screen on the T.V. and sighed. His house was normally quiet, not even his cat was stirring, and now he had to wait until he could be with his love again. This wait was going to kill him and if not, then the silence alone would.

A week later, when Ivan finally returned, Alfred tackled him to the floor and kissed him like he was about to die. Ivan kissed him back and Alfred's heart soared when he realized that the older nation had missed him just as much and had craved him even more so. Needless to say, they didn't make it to the bedroom. They almost didn't make it to the living room, even.

When they were finished and Alfred was lying on top of Ivan, feeling completely satisfied and happy and more than blissful, Alfred kissed his lover's bare chest and looked into his violet eyes.

"Ya lyublyu tebya," Alfred said, smiling softly and tenderly. Ivan's eyes shown and he kissed Alfred lovingly.

"I love you as well, my little one."

Eventually, they did make it to the bedroom where they stayed for the rest of the day. Neither one of them wanted to leave the other for whatever reason, and if they had to, they were reluctant to do so. The day melted away into night and when they were too exhausted to continue, Ivan curled his larger body around Alfred's. Sleep began to make his eyes feel heavy and the younger nation fell asleep with Ivan's arms wrapped securely around him and a smile of happiness and love on his lips.

_~…~_

_Nobody's gonna love you _

_If you can't display a way to capture this_

_Nobody's gonna hold your hand_

_And guide you through_

_No, it's up for you to understand_

_Nobody's gonna feel your pain_

_When all is gone and it's time for you to walk away_

_When you have today_

_Say all that you have to say_

_So when you have today_

_Say all that you have to say_

_~…~_

**~…~**

**Scene II End**

**~…~**


	3. Scene III

A/N: I don't own any of the lyrics or titles to the songs or chapters. They're owned by Sleeping with Sirens. And I don't own any of the characters from Hetalia. I hope you like this chapter. It's going to be full of angsty feels. R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**Scene III: Stomach Tied in Knots**

**~…~**

_Oh, my stomach's tied in knots_

_I'm afraid of what I'll find if you want to talk tonight_

_Ooh, ooh_

_See, the problem isn't you _

_It's me, I know_

_I can tell, I've seen it time after time_

_And I'll push you away (mmm)_

_I get so afraid, oh, no_

_~…~_

Ivan had been such a fool, such a stupid fool.

Even after years of being with Alfred, he still had problems opening up to the younger nation, telling him of his worries and fears, sharing his pain and his feelings. He still had a hard tell telling Alfred that he loved him or that he was genuinely happy with him and couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather be with than him. Ivan couldn't really put into words why he was like that even now, even after so many years.

And the problem wasn't Alfred. No, Alfred had been more than understanding with Ivan. They were similar in many aspects, one being that their pasts, their wars, have left scars that were more than skin deep, and it's hard to forget such pain even after centuries. So, Alfred understood why Ivan had a hard time letting him in. It had taken the younger nation a while to do that himself, but the thing was, he was eventually able to do it completely. He wore his heart on his sleeve around Ivan and let him know exactly what he was feeling when – except during meetings and whatnot. Very few of the other nations knew they were together, but hardly any of them were happy about it, especially Arthur, so keeping things quiet between the two of them was for the best for them both.

Ivan was the problem, though. His inability to be honest and open with Alfred got in the way of their relationship. Things got rough and bad and before Ivan knew it, Alfred was gone. It didn't help that whenever Ivan felt stressed and under pressure he would become cold and distant, saying and doing things that he wouldn't normally have said or done, at least, to Alfred. All of the mean and cruel things he said and did along with his unwillingness to open up and let Alfred in ended their relationship.

Part of Ivan wasn't surprised, though. He had no friends, only subordinates, and not even them anymore. Everyone around him left, happily so, wanting nothing more to do with him and fearing and hating him for what and who he was. Anyone he came across, he pushed away with his cruelty and his cold distance. And when it came down to it, deep down, Ivan was afraid.

Nothing in this life was guaranteed, he knew that and understood perhaps better than most nations, and things could be here today and gone tomorrow. Knowing that, knowing that even nations could fall and crumble, and knowing that perhaps his beliefs were for naught, frightened Ivan more so than anything else. He couldn't handle it and it caused him to pull away from others or push them away if they got too close. That's what happened with Alfred. Ivan got scared and he pushed him to the point where he left.

Now, Ivan wants him back more than anything else. Even if Alfred comes to think that there was someone better for him than Ivan, it didn't matter, not to the Russian. All he wanted, no…all he _needed_ was Alfred. It wasn't just a matter of Ivan loving Alfred; he needed him and that was more powerful than love.

Even afraid as he was, Ivan couldn't continue living without Alfred.

_~…~_

_And I can't live without you now_

_Whoa-oh-oh_

_I can't even live with myself_

_Uh-uh-uh_

_And I can't live without you now_

_Whoa-oh-oh_

_And I don't want nobody else_

_I only have myself to blame_

_But do you think we can start again?_

'_Cause I can't live without you_

_~…~_

Alfred was the only person on the planet that Ivan wanted. He knew now that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, that he didn't just want Alfred to become one with Russia, but to rule by his side.

Together.

There was no one else who knew Ivan as well as Alfred did. No one understood him or was able to calm him down whenever he became angry or upset. Not even his sisters knew what to do, and right now, as relations were, they probably wouldn't want to anyway – and he was fine with that. Ivan didn't want everybody to know him inside and out; he didn't even want a handful of people to know. He just wanted Alfred to know. Only him.

Their break up was his fault, Ivan will readily admit to that. But he wanted to try again. They belonged together, fit like pieces of a puzzle, and no one else would do for either of them. Ivan hoped with all of his might that if he explained things to Alfred that the younger nation would understand and take him back. He hoped that he would.

However…

_~…~_

_Oh my stomach's tied in knots_

_I'm afraid of what I'll find if I see you with him tonight_

_Ooh, ooh_

_See the problem isn't you_

_It's me, I know_

_I do this everything single time_

_I'll push you away (ooh)_

_I get so afraid, oh no_

_~…~_

Alfred had been staying with Ivan more often than not; they practically lived together before their break up. And now, Alfred was staying with Arthur.

Now, Ivan knew for a fact that Alfred wasn't interested in Arthur; he had never been interested in him that way. Arthur was like his father, Alfred had said numerous times. He was an old man, and then Alfred would laugh and tell Ivan about something embarrassing the Brit had done or said sometime before the American Revolution.

However, Ivan saw even before he began dating Alfred Arthur's interest in his former colony. Those green eyes always filled with desire and want and things that made Ivan's blood boil and caused his fingers to wrap around his pipe. And now, knowing that Alfred was staying with him, at least for the time being, so near and yet so far, made Ivan want to punch Arthur's face in with his bare hands. He knew that Alfred didn't reciprocate Arthur's desires and that he wouldn't respond favorably if the older nation did anything, but just the possibility that he _might_ do something was enough.

But what if Alfred was done with him? What if he didn't want to get back together with Ivan? What if he thought that Arthur was a far better partner than Ivan? Perhaps he'd be more open and loving and would treat Alfred better. Arthur would do anything to make sure that Alfred wouldn't go back to Ivan if that was the case, of that, the Russian was sure. If that happened, there would be war, bloody and devastating until Ivan got his lover back.

He wouldn't be able to handle it if Alfred told him that he never wanted to see him again. Ivan would lose whatever sanity he still maintained. No one, nothing, would be safe. All of Europe would burn in his wake until he had Alfred in his arms again, willing or unwilling.

Ivan was going to fix this. This was his mistake, his fault, and he was going to fix it. He had to because he loved Alfred more than anything and he needed him above anyone else. His fears were no longer important; they didn't matter when he was faced with a life with Alfred, which was, if he were being honest, his biggest fear of all.

_~…~_

_And I can't live without you now_

_Whoa-oh-oh_

_I can't even live with myself_

_Uh-uh-uh_

_I can't live without you now_

_Whoa-oh-oh_

_And I don't want nobody else_

_~…~_

If he lost Alfred, Ivan wasn't going to be able to move past that. He wasn't going to be able to live through that. Honestly, he could hardly live with himself right now, as things were. And they hadn't even been apart for a week.

Truthfully, Ivan regretted the break up as soon as it happened. He should have stopped Alfred from leaving the house when the thought first crossed his mind. Instead, he let him go, believing that he was doing the right thing. Now, he knew that he hadn't done the right thing. Aside from how he felt, he knew for sure that Alfred wasn't fairing any better. Tears had been rolling down his cheeks before he had even started packing. The American had been crying all throughout his packing and Ivan had just watched him, wanting to reach out and hold him and tell him that he was a coward and that all he truly wanted was for Alfred to stay, _just stay forever with me_, and pat his hair and kiss his tears away. But he had been a coward and had allowed himself to harm the one he held most dear. How weak, how pathetic, he was to have allowed such a thing to occur.

And in a home that Ivan had told him was _theirs_ and not _his_ anymore.

No, no more. This…he needed to amend this. Quickly.

_~…~_

_I only have myself to blame_

_But do you think we can start again?_

_I only have myself to blame_

_But do you think we can start again?_

_I only have myself to blame_

_But do you think we can start again?_

_I only have myself to blame_

_Let's start again._

_Let's start again. _

_I can't live without you_

_~…~_

Ivan would go to Alfred. He would not summon him here; Alfred probably would answer his phone if Ivan's ID appeared on the screen. After all, he hadn't wanted the break up; Ivan had. So Ivan would go to him, even though he was, for the time being, staying with Arthur. Arthur probably wouldn't allow him inside his house, but, being far bigger, stronger, and more powerful, there was little he could do if Ivan pushed his way inside. He probably wouldn't even attack him; very few people had the balls to do so.

They would start over again, Alfred and himself. They would start over because that's what needed to be done and so, he would do it. Ivan would be honest and open from the start, even if it took him all day to put into words what he felt. Perhaps he would even try to show Alfred, if it could be done. After all, the younger nation didn't know every single story to every scar littering his body.

Ivan knew all of Alfred's.

No, they would start over anew and things would be even better than they had been. And they would be happier because he would try harder because Alfred was worth that much and so much more.

Always more.

_~…~_

_And I can't live without you now_

_Oh-oh_

_I can't even live with myself_

_Oh-oh-oh_

_I can't live without you now_

_Oh-oh_

_And I don't want nobody else_

_Oh-oh-oh_

_~…~_

Not even one week had passed since Ivan ended their relationship and he knew that he couldn't live with this pain. And if he couldn't live with it, then he knew that Alfred couldn't either. Ivan was stronger than Alfred – not that that meant that Alfred was weak because he was not; he just wasn't as strong as Ivan was – and, knowing the younger nation, he knew that he was barely coping. He was probably locked away in his room at Arthur's most of the day, not wanting to move or anything like that. His appetite was probably greatly diminished and he probably wasn't as talkative as he usually was.

Just knowing that he had caused such sorrow and pain made Ivan want to punish himself. And he would do that eventually. But right now, what he needed to do was reconcile with his lover and make them whole once again. He needed to take the pain away from Alfred and heal the scars he had inflicted. Ivan would make things right, this he swore.

_~…~_

'_Cause I can't live without you now_

_Oh-oh_

_I can't even live with myself_

_Oh-oh_

_And I can't live without you now_

_Oh-oh_

'_Cause I don't want nobody else_

_Nobody else_

_Nobody else_

_I can't live without you_

_Oh-oh_

_~…~_

**~…~**

**End Scene III**


	4. Scene IV

A/N: Sorry I have posted the new chapter yet. I don't have internet at my house, so I can only post things at my parents' house. I'm glad you all are liking the story thus far! I hope I can continue with the angsty goodness. R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**Scene IV: Don't You Ever Forget About Me**

**~…~**

_The hardest thing I'd ever do_

_Is say goodbye and walk slowly away from you_

_But I'll do it_

_~…~_

Leaving was hard, so very, very hard. Harder than Alfred had expected, as a matter of fact. He had known that it was going to be hard, especially after all of the things Ivan had said to him, but he hadn't realized that it was going to be soul-wrenching hard. It was as though a piece of himself was breaking away from his very soul, shattering into a million tiny pieces as he packed what he could carry with him and walk out of the door to their…no, _Ivan's_ house. That place was no longer his home, although it still felt like it even after a week, and he was no longer welcome there, although it was the only place he wanted to be right now.

Arthur's house had been the only option. Going back to his home in the States seemed so damn final, like it was all really over and Alfred just wasn't ready to accept that. In all honesty, he didn't think he'd ever be able to accept that. Thinking about it now was too hard for him; fresh tears pricked his red-rimmed eyes.

He knew he looked like utter hell, but he didn't give a damn. The only thing he cared about right now was Ivan and the fact that they were over. Alfred didn't understand it, either! Honestly, he didn't! While things had been strained – mostly because Ivan hadn't been opening up to him much like he used to – things hadn't been bad. Yes, they fought, but not often and Alfred understood, he seriously did. Letting things out and sharing everything that was going on inside one's head was a difficult thing to do, especially when one was a country as enemies wore many friendly faces. But after being together so long, Ivan should have known that Alfred wasn't his enemy. They had never been enemies. The Cold War…that was nothing because Alfred had never felt any sort of animosity or hatred or anything negative towards Ivan, especially during that time. Actually, during that period of time, he often wondered if the older nation felt as tired and drained about the whole ordeal as he felt.

And now, he felt even more tired and drained and sad, so very, very sad, and lonely. Now more than ever, Alfred needed Ivan. He needed his strong arms wrapped around his body, he needed his familiar scent, he needed his soft voice, he needed his small smile…hell, he just needed Ivan period!

Nothing Arthur said or did helped, either. None of his words of insult about Ivan or his words of support or comfort made any impact on Alfred or lifted his spirits. How could his soul be lifted when he had left part of it behind with Ivan?

_~…~_

_And after all this time I shared with you_

_It seems unfair to leave with nothing more than blank stares_

_But I'll do it_

_~…~_

It was so damn unfair! After all this time, after years, centuries even, of being so utterly alone and unloved and unwanted and unneeded, Alfred had found someone who saw true value in him because he was him, who loved him unconditionally and who wanted him and needed him as much as Alfred wanted and needed Ivan. At least, he _thought_ that Ivan had wanted and needed him. Perhaps that had all been a lie…

No, he must've think like that. Ivan's love wasn't something he gave on a whim or lied about and Alfred knew that. His mind was playing games with him again. But it was hard to not believe the things his mind was telling him.

Just the way Ivan had looked at him…

Alfred had wanted Ivan to come and embrace him as he gathered his things together and packed them. He wanted him to take back all of the things he had said and to get back together again. But Ivan hadn't and Alfred wasn't going to force him to do or say something he didn't want to do or say. No one could force Russia to do anything he didn't want to, especially America. It was the look on Ivan's face, though, that had hurt more than anything he had said to Alfred. Ivan had always been hard to read – Alfred even had a hard time reading him – but the blank stare on his face just seemed so…definite, like there was no going back.

And maybe Ivan didn't want to.

And if that's what Ivan wanted, then Alfred would try his best to give it to him, no matter how dead it made him on the inside. And he felt pretty dead right now.

_~…~_

_If it's for the best then I wish you well_

_If it helps to say our life was a living hell_

_Well then do it_

_Then do it_

_Then do it_

_~…~_

Alfred really wanted to wish Ivan well, he really did. He wanted to tell Ivan good luck, but he couldn't. He just…couldn't. It hurt too much for him to even think about it. There was no way in hell he'd be able to walk up to Ivan, before or after a meeting or just in private, and tell him that he hoped everything went well for him in the future. Alfred would break down on the spot and cry and Ivan would probably smile that small smile at him and call him a coward or a weakling and laugh in his face.

That thought alone brought even more tears to Alfred's eyes and he curled up in a tight ball on the bed and buried his face in his pillow. It was around midnight, maybe even a few minutes before, and he didn't want to wake Arthur.

Maybe Ivan was just tired of being with Alfred. After all, Alfred himself had a hard time opening up and letting Ivan in; such things happened when a country like Alfred was pretty much all alone in the world, with friends and enemies that seemed to be one in the same more often than not. Perhaps it was just getting to Ivan, making him feel worse and worse and maybe breaking up with the younger nation had been his way to save himself. If that was the case, then Ivan should have just said so. But then again, why would he when he couldn't properly open up himself?

_~…~_

_Don't you ever forget about me_

_When you toss and turn in your sleep_

_I hope it's because you can't stop thinking about _

_The reasons why you close your eyes_

_I haunt your dreams at night_

_So you can't stop thinking about me_

_Don't stop thinking about me_

_~…~_

Alfred wondered if Ivan was thinking about him right now. Was he sitting in his chair by the fireplace with a glass of vodka in his hands? Were his violet eyes staring into the fire, watching the flames dance while his mind rolled with thoughts of Alfred and what they had had? Or was he thankful and relieved that it was over? Was he even thinking of Alfred at all?

Was he?

Was he forgetting him and what they had, barely a week after they had been through? Would Ivan do something like that? Would he move on so easily after all they had been through?

Alfred wasn't sure; his heart said no and yet his mind said yes and he wasn't sure which one he ought to believe.

_~…~_

_Do you really think you can see this through?_

_Put on a smile and wear it for someone new_

_Don't you do it_

_~…~_

Maybe Ivan had found someone else he wanted to be with. Perhaps he was so sick and tired and just _done_ with Alfred and his insecurities and low self-esteem and he wanted someone else. That thought shook Alfred to his core and sobs wracked his already trembling body, making him shiver and shake as hot tears streamed down his face. If that was the case…if that was the case then…then Alfred was dead.

There was no one else for him aside from Ivan. He felt more connected to Ivan than anyone else in the world and he knew that he wouldn't be able to find someone else that he'd be as happy with as he had been with the older nation. But what if Ivan didn't feel the same way? What if he decided that he'd rather be with Natalya or Toris or someone, anyone really, who wasn't Alfred?

Well, Alfred couldn't really blame him if that was the case. So many others had far more to offer than he did anyway. If Ivan found another person he wanted to be with, who could give him things that Alfred couldn't and make him feel things that Alfred couldn't, then what could the younger nation do? Nothing, really. He couldn't force Ivan to stop feeling what he felt. Hell, he couldn't even control what he felt. He couldn't control anything.

And yet, the idea of someone else being in Ivan's life, of making him smile and laugh, really, truly smile and laugh, caused so much jealousy and anger to spread throughout him that it frightened Alfred. Thinking about someone else being in Ivan's arms, in his bed, even in his thoughts made Alfred want to punch whoever it was in the face repeatedly until they didn't look like a person anymore. And what frightened him even more was that he would honest to God do it too, regardless of who it was.

It wasn't like Alfred to want to harm someone just because. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't just punch people in the face or whatever when they disagreed with him. Actually, he could be rational and mature when he wanted to be and it wasn't often that he got into personal arguments or physical altercations with another nation because of personal feelings. But he wanted to find whoever Ivan was interested in and beat them to a bloody pulp so that they would know not to mess with his man.

But Ivan wasn't his man, not anymore, and his feelings of jealousy and anger were unwarranted. At least, that's what his brain told him. His heart on the other hand was telling him that of course he'd be jealous and angry and hurt and upset and completely devastated about the very notion that there was somebody else in Ivan's life – and in his bed.

If possible, he cried even harder. How someone could have so many tears even after almost crying every single day of the week astounded him. Alfred sure as hell had never known that he had that many tears inside of him. It brought him back to the time in his life when the world was nothing but gray skies and heavy hearts even when the skies above him were bright blue and the people around him laughed and smiled without a care in the world. It was as though nothing had truly changed and Alfred was still very, very lonely and that no one saw him for who he was.

Everyone else only ever saw him as America, so why not Ivan too?

Why would Ivan be any different?

_~…~_

'_Cause I know I'm not the easiest one to love_

_But every ounce I had_

_I invest in you_

_But no one said love's not for taking chances_

_~…~_

Yes, Alfred knew that he had his problems; the other nations around him, Arthur, Francis to name a few, had helped him out with that. The fact that they thought that he was stupid and useless and arrogant and of no importance had left their marks, probably permanently, within his mind. Not only that, but all of the wars he had been through, all of the bloodshed that he had seen and that he, on some level, had caused his people to suffer, the Great Depression, all of it had made him believe that what the other nations said and thought about him were true. That he was useless and arrogant and selfish and irrational and bloodthirsty and power hungry and…and dangerous.

There were other problems he had too, self-image problems, that stemmed from Arthur and Francis and even Yao calling him fat, and that was putting it nicely…

Ivan knew about all of his problems even if it had taken Alfred a long time to tell him about them. He understood, or he had said that he understood, where the younger nation was coming from. And he had made Alfred believe that he wasn't alone anymore, that there was someone out there who understood his pain and his sadness more than anyone else ever would. Because of that, and for so many other reasons, Alfred had fallen in love with him and he had given him everything he had within him.

Every ounce of love, every tear he cried for Ivan or with Ivan, every laugh, every sigh, every moan, every drop of sweat or blood, it held as much love as Alfred had to give in it. He never believed in doing things half way; if he committed himself to something then he gave one hundred and fifty percent. The same was true with his relationship with Ivan; he gave everything he had and so much more. Even now, Alfred loved Ivan with a fiery passion that would make the flames of Hell seem nuke warm. Even now, if someone captured him and tortured him for information about the older nation, Alfred wouldn't utter a word about him, not one single word.

He knew when he began pouring his heart into their relationship that he was taking a huge chance, that he very well may lose everything he had. It was a chance that he happily took at the time because he believed that no matter what, through thin and through thick, that he and Ivan would endure and remain together.

Well, he had been wrong about that, hadn't he?

Alfred should have expected it, he should have _known_. Arthur and Francis and all of the other nations had been right all along: Alfred was nothing but a stupid American. Nothing more and nothing less and certainly nothing to love or remember.

_~…~_

_So don't you ever forget about me_

_When you toss and turn in your sleep_

_I hope it's because you can't stop thinking about _

_The reasons why you close your eyes_

_I haunt your dreams at night_

_And so you can't stop thinking about me_

_(Can't stop thinking about me)_

_~…~_

Perhaps Ivan had realized that about Alfred. Perhaps he had finally come to believe that all of the other nations had been right about Alfred. Maybe that was another reason why he broke up with Alfred. Well, he supposed that now he'd never know. Even if he managed to be able to eventually talk to Ivan normally during meetings, Alfred would never walk up to him and ask him before or after. He probably wouldn't even want to be seen talking to the American now anyway.

If Alfred could curl into a tighter ball, he would. All he wanted to do right now was waste away and disappear from existence. What was the point in existing anymore anyway? There was nothing left for him now and his people didn't need someone as weak and as pathetic as him for a country anyway. But he knew that trying anything would be pointless – it wouldn't work even if he tried – and it was the cowardly way to go out. Alfred was stronger than that.

Wasn't he?

Right now, he didn't feel all that strong. Actually, he felt pretty pathetic and weak and cowardly, like the lowest thing on the planet, lower than dirt, lower than child molesters. Would he always feel this way? Part of him said yes, he would, because the love he had for Ivan was still so very strong and it wasn't going to disappear, not even with time. Another part of him said no; he'd feel even worse if Ivan found someone else and forgot what they had shared together.

A soft knock came to his door suddenly. Lifting his head and looking at the clock on the bedside table, Alfred realized that it was half past midnight.

"Yeah?" he called out and he winced. He sounded as horrible and as shitty as he felt, and that meant that Arthur would be able to tell as well.

"Alfred, love, I know that this is a stupid question, but…are you alright?" came Arthur's voice through the door that separated them.

The younger nation nearly laughed at that. Was he alright? No, he wasn't alright and he wasn't going to be alright. But he didn't want to inconvenience Arthur any more than he already was. He was already using Arthur now; he had known about Arthur's desire for him even before Ivan had broken up with him and he knew that he didn't feel the same way. Nothing was going to change between the two of them and Alfred had told him that on many occasions. And yet, here he was, using Arthur's desire for him for a place to stay since Ivan's was, obviously, out of the question and since he didn't want to go back to his own place in the States.

"I'm fine, Arthur," Alfred replied and laid back down on the bed, clutching one of the pillows to his chest. There was a pause before Arthur's voice came through the door again.

"Well, if you need me, don't hesitate to ask," he told him.

Alfred didn't say anything; he just allowed his tears to roll down his puffy cheeks while he listened for Arthur's footsteps to carry him away from his room. Soon enough, he heard the older nation sigh softly and walk away, leaving him by himself once more. Not that Alfred minded being by himself; he had had many long years by himself and now, he'd have many more yet to come.

_~…~_

_Will you take me back in the morning_

_If I promise to never act this way again?_

_Oh, oh_

'_Cause I'm so bad at being lonely_

_But I don't know how (don't know how)_

_I don't know how_

_~…~_

Loneliness wasn't something Alfred was unused to. On the contrary, he was very much used to being lonely. And it had taken him a long time to learn how to not be lonely. But around Ivan, it was almost natural. He didn't feel lonely at all when he was round Ivan. Alfred could be in a room full of the other nations and he'd still feel lonely if Ivan wasn't around him.

And then a thought popped into his head.

Maybe…maybe Ivan would take him back if Alfred promised, swore to him, that he would change. He would do whatever it took if it meant that he'd get Ivan back; he'd do anything, anything at all. It didn't matter what the price was; he would gladly pay it. It didn't matter what Ivan wanted him to change about himself; Alfred would change it. Anything Ivan wanted, he would give him if only it meant that they could be together again.

Alfred wanted to be with Ivan more than anything else. He wanted his soul to be whole again. He would do whatever it took. He would give up everything if only he could go back in time and change whatever he had done wrong to make Ivan distance himself and want to not be with him.

But he wouldn't even know where to start to change whatever the hell was wrong with him. Alfred wouldn't even know if it would work. Now he was lonely again and his heart ached and yearned for its true love, for Ivan. The things he needed to change about himself…the list was so long that he wasn't sure if he'd even be able to start the changes in time to save their relationship.

What if they were doomed to fail from the start? What if Ivan had never even felt as deeply for Alfred as Alfred felt for him? Would he be able to handle knowing about that? No, he didn't think he would. Actually, it would probably kill whatever was left of him, and that wasn't much. Besides, time travel didn't exist and he couldn't go back and change himself, no matter how hard he wished he could.

_~…~_

_So don't you ever forget about me_

_Don't you ever forget about me_

_Don't you ever forget about me_

_When you toss and turn in your sleep_

_I hope it's because you can't stop thinking about_

_The reasons why you close your eyes_

_I haunt your dreams at night_

_So you can't stop thinking about me_

_(Don't stop thinking about me)_

_~…~_

Alfred released a self-deprecating laugh.

For all he knew, Ivan was in bed with someone else, fucking them hard and rough and enjoying himself more so than he had when he was in bed with Alfred. Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in their ear in Russian and grinning when they moaned and arched into his touch, into those hands that could be cool and warm, soft and strong all at once. And maybe he meant those sweet nothings he whispered to them; maybe he was truly happy for once.

A choked sob escaped his dry, sore throat and Alfred buried his face in his pillow. Merely thinking about it tore his already broken heart into even tinier fragments.

Ivan had probably pushed Alfred out of his mind already and was thinking about other, more important things. He was probably laughing to himself at how pathetic and sad the younger nation was and how easily it had been to fool him. Matthew, his brother, had once told him that he was too naïve for his own good and he had been right; Alfred had trusted Ivan with all that he had to give and now he was being laughed at from miles away. And whoever he was fucking was probably laughing right along with him. Hell, for all Alfred knew, he had just been a game to the Russian, a passing fancy that had caught his attention for a time being but was now nothing more than a boring little boy that he didn't want to play with anymore.

Maybe Ivan was in his bed right now sleeping soundly with that small smile on his face as he dreamed of vodka and sunflowers. Perhaps Alfred was in his dreams and perhaps Ivan was laughing at him and tearing him apart gleefully while his dream self crumpled to pieces and wept like a child. Or perhaps Ivan's dream self was beating Alfred's dream self with that pipe that he loved to carry around with him, rejoicing in the physical pain and torment he was bringing his ex-lover.

Another sob escaped him and Alfred closed his eyes tightly and shook his head back and forth, back and forth, trying and failing to erase such thoughts and images from his mind. Ivan wouldn't do that, would he? Not even in his dreams would he hurt Alfred, right? If that was true, then why would he hurt Alfred in the real world?

Was he thinking about Alfred right now? Did he even care about him and what he was going through? Had he ever cared about the younger nation? Had all of his words been lies and nothing more than sweet nothings to get Alfred in bed? Or was he hurting just as much as Alfred was? Would Alfred ever know? Did he even want to?

Alfred was so hurt and confused that he didn't know what to believe or what to think. All he knew was that he was tired and that...that...

He sat up in bed and listened into the night. A soft _pang_ hit his window. After a minute or so, another _pang_ struck, and then another one. What the hell was that noise? It wasn't rain; he would have been able to tell if it was rain.

Rolling out of bed, Alfred made his way over to his window. He hesitated, not sure whether he wanted to pushed back the curtain and look down or not. It could be anyone, it could even be Ivan… But that would be asking for too much and he knew that. So, maybe it wouldn't hurt to see what or who it was after all.

Sighing heavily, feeling like shit and looking like it too, Alfred pulled back the curtain and looked down.

There, standing in the soft glow of yellow light that emanated from the nearby light, was Ivan and Alfred felt his heart stop.

_~…~_

_Just close your eyes_

_And fall asleep at night_

_~…~_


	5. Scene V

A/N: Well, here's the last part of the story. I hope that you all like this one as much as the other ones and I hope I did the story justice. R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

**Scene V: With Ears to See and Eyes to Hear**

**~…~**

_True friends lie underneath,_

_The witty words I don't believe_

_I can't believe a damn thing they say anymore (anymore)_

_~…~_

Ivan wondered, as he made his way to Arthur's house, if he was too late to save his relationship with Alfred. While part of him knew, instinctively, that Alfred would always love him unconditionally, another part of him told him that he had damaged the younger nation beyond repair and that nothing he did would ever make up for it. Thinking such a thought made him cringe on the inside and the regret he had felt ever since the words had first left his lips reared its ugly head and began to seep out of every pore. No matter what it took and no matter how long it took, he would make up for his mistake, and truly it was the biggest mistake he had ever made in his existence.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind on his journey. What was he going to say to Alfred once he saw him? Would he be able to say the right things? Would he even be able to say anything at all or would his beloved's beauty leave him breathless and speechless as it often did?

Just thinking of seeing Alfred's face again brought a genuine smile to Ivan's face. It may have only been a week, but it felt like a life time and that was a life time too many for him. Never again would he allow anything or anyone to come between them and separate them again. He would make sure of that. And he was even willing to lay down his arms against one that he considered his enemy just to get Alfred back, for Arthur was most definitely an enemy.

Not that the Brit would ever engage him head on; oh no, he was far too cowardly for that. Others would call him intelligent; not Ivan. He saw it as cowardly because only a coward showed his enemy the fear and that's what Arthur was showing him. Fear, pure and simple. However, Ivan was willing to look past that if it meant that he would get Alfred back because his Alfred was far more important than whatever grudge he had against Arthur.

So, if having to see Arthur and speak to him, however briefly that was, meant that he would get Alfred back, then he'd do it. Because Alfred meant too much to him to not do this. And now, as he stepped onto Arthur's property and walked resolutely towards the front doors, Ivan was readying himself for whatever was about to happen. Either way, he was going to leave with Alfred whether the American wanted to go with him or not.

_~…~_

_Lie! Lie! Liar!_

_Liar, you'll pay for your sins_

_Lie! Lie! Liar!_

_Liar, you'll pay for your sins_

_~…~_

Ivan raised his hand to ring the doorbell and he froze. A sudden thought occurred to him for the first time that night.

What if Alfred seriously did not want to go with him?

He had, after all, broken Alfred's heart and had caused him pain and sorrow and suffering beyond measure. A week had passed; it was possible that Alfred had decided to move on. Would he move on? Did the younger nation have it in him to move on so quickly? Ivan knew that he didn't have it in him and he was older than Alfred. Then again, perhaps his youth was what would make this easier on him. Perhaps the best course of action would be to leave and leave Alfred be. If he came back, then Ivan would have his answer.

Shaking his head, Ivan glared at the white doors before him.

No, he would not run away, not now, not when he was so very close to the one person that he loved and cherished above all others. Besides, this was his entire fault and as such, he should be the one to fix it, not Alfred. Asking his lover to do so would be extremely unfair of him and callous and cruel and heartless. If anyone ought to come crawling on his knees, showing humility and desperation, it ought to be him seeing as how he was the one to cause all of this grief and suffering.

And if that wasn't incentive enough, there was one thing that Ivan needed to remember…

Whatever pain he had felt before, during, and after breaking up with Alfred, whatever pain he had felt and was currently feeling, Alfred was feeling it even worse. Ivan knew Alfred; he knew about his insecurities and his doubts. He knew that so many tears had been shed and he knew that he was responsible for all of them. And he also knew that he was the only one who could make those tears stop and stop the pain that Alfred suffered from so greatly. Only him and no one else.

There was no turning back, not now. There would be no doubts or confusing thoughts, not for him. Ivan was a man on a mission, a Russian man, and he would come out victorious in the end. Alfred was his and his alone and it was time that Ivan started taking better care of his dearly beloved.

So, without giving himself another second to think, Ivan pressed the doorbell. He listened as it rang throughout the house. A minute passed by and then two, and, impatiently, Ivan pressed it again. Then, an idea came to him. Why not have a little fun with the Brit while he was here, da? With a cheery grin on his face, Ivan continuously pressed the doorbell, laughing while he did so for he knew that Arthur was probably cursing his very existence right now.

Suddenly, with a jerky movement, one of the doors opened and standing in the warm, yellow light was Arthur, glaring up at him. When he realized who had been ringing his doorbell, his body tensed up and his eyes widened before they glared at him with utter loathing and hatred. Ah, some things never changed.

_~…~_

_So tell me, how does it feel,_

_How does it feel to be like you?_

_I think your mouth should be quiet_

'_Cause it never tells the truth now_

_~…~_

"What are you doing here, Ivan?" Arthur asking him, standing in the door way with his arms crossed over his chest like a dragon guarding his fair princess in the tower of his castle. It was a show, obviously, a show that he wasn't going to allow Ivan in his house.

"I came to see Alfred, of course," Ivan told him, his smile in place as it usually was. "I desperately need to talk to him."

"No," Arthur stated firmly, still glaring at Ivan.

"No?" Ivan repeated, his smile never wavering.

"That's precisely what I said, Ivan. No. He doesn't want to see you," Arthur told him.

"Doesn't want to or is it that you won't allow me to see him?" Ivan asked. "I'm thinking it's more of 'you don't want to me to see him', which is stupid because Alfred is mine and will never, ever be yours."

"It's not about that!" Arthur seethed and Ivan knew that he had struck a nerve. Oh, it was so easy. "You've upset him greatly and he's been shut up in his room ever since he arrived here doing nothing but crying. He hasn't even eaten anything, Ivan! And it's all your fault."

"So you won't give me the chance to fix this and stop all of his hurt and pain?" Ivan asked him, staring down at Arthur with cold violet eyes. He watched as Arthur swallowed and he felt the tiniest hint of satisfaction rise within him. "We both know that I am the only one who can fix this," he added.

"That may be so…" Arthur admitted reluctantly, his voice barely audible, although Ivan heard it. The Brit looked down, obviously thinking. Ivan had him and they both knew it.

"Besides, we both know that he will never want you the way that he wants me," Ivan said. At that, Arthur turned his hate filled glare back at him.

"You're not stepping one foot inside of this house," Arthur stated firmly before he slammed the door in Ivan's face. Perhaps he shouldn't have pushed it that far…

He blinked a few times at the closed door before he stepped back, walking away from it, all the while keeping his eyes focused on it. It was possible that Alfred had heard their conversation; perhaps he would open the door and come running down the walkway into Ivan's arms. Stopping, the Russian waited and no such thing happened. Of course, he had been foolish to get his hopes up; hadn't Arthur told him that Alfred hadn't left his room since he arrived? And Arthur wasn't going to allow him into the house; he had made that quite clear.

Yes, Ivan could just break down the door; he was strong enough to do so. However, that would surely cause a fight between himself and Arthur and that wasn't why he was here. He was here to get Alfred back and he would do so, but he would do so in a way that wouldn't involve a fight of any sort on any party's end. Therefore, the only option Ivan had was to sneak into the house quietly.

Checking the time on his phone, Ivan realized that it was midnight already. Hopefully, Arthur had gone to bed after their conversation; he had been dressed in his pajamas after all, so it was very possible. But Ivan still had to be careful, just in case.

_~…~_

_So tell me, so tell me why_

_Why does it have to be this way?_

_Why can't things ever change?_

_~…~_

Luckily for Ivan, there was a window that was slightly open on the ground level. Peering inside, he could see into Arthur's sitting room. It was dark inside, which was good because that meant that Arthur was somewhere upstairs. Glancing at the upper floor, he could see that a light was on. Maybe it was the light to Arthur's room. That would be most fortunate for him indeed.

Ivan opened the window and, as quietly as he could, he crawled into the sitting room. His boots seemed to make a deafening sound in the otherwise silent house. Only the ticking from the nearby grandfather clock could be heard. Other than that, though, the house was quiet.

Straightening up, Ivan left the room and headed towards the foyer of the house. From previous visits – back during the World Wars and from meetings between the two countries since then – Ivan knew that the stairwell was situated in the foyer. Sure enough, his memory had served him well and he was fast approaching the stairwell. Alfred was somewhere up on the second floor. He was so close and yet so very far. Ivan could practically hear his voice, smell his magnificent scent, taste his unique flavor, and feel his warmth against his body. It made him greatly yearn for the younger nation and his heart began to ache almost uncontrollably.

Cautiously, Ivan began to ascend the stairs. Soon, he would be gazing upon the beautiful visage of his lover. Soon, he would have him in his arms again and then he would never let him go, not ever. Somehow, just by thinking about Alfred and all that they shared and had been through, Ivan was falling even more in love with the American. Although he couldn't see how that was possible; he was already very much in love with him before he had broken up with him and that wasn't going to change for the remainder of his days.

There was no one else that Ivan wanted. There was no one else who could compare to Alfred. No one could match him in any category. He bested all of them and Ivan's chest swelled with pride and love at that very thought.

The other nations, they were all fools. They had no idea how priceless Alfred was and how valuable of a comrade he was. All they saw was what was skin deep, and, truthfully, that was all a lie. What they saw wasn't even the real Alfred; it was a façade that the American wore to protect himself from the other nations because their taunts and jibes could be incredibly unbearable and hard to handle, especially if their comments and sneers were given as plain as day and just as freely day in and day out. And they were fools because they had no idea what they were missing.

But Ivan knew. Ivan understood. He wanted Alfred. No, he _needed _Alfred more than anything; more than food to sustain him; more than water to saturate him and quench his thirst; more than air to give him life. They belonged together; they fit like two pieces of a puzzle and there could be and would be no one else for either of them. This, Ivan knew. And he also knew that Alfred knew this as well.

_~…~_

_I'm falling over and over again_

_From all the words that you have said_

_It's written on my heart for everyone to see_

_From the place I was, to the place I am, to the place I want to be_

_From the mountains I've been climbing over and under and over_

_~…~_

"Hey! How the bloody hell did you get into the house?!" Arthur's voice broke through Ivan's train of thought. Looking up, he saw the other nation glaring down at him from the top of the stairwell, his hands on his hips.

"Oh. The open window in the sitting room," Ivan replied pleasantly, smiling up at Arthur. That only made his scowl deepen and he moved down the stairs towards him.

"Get out! Get out right now, damn you!" Arthur yelled at him, pushing him down the stairs.

Before Ivan knew it, Arthur was opening the front door and pushing him out of the house roughly. Ivan turned to him and stepped into the pool of light that was emanating out from the light in the foyer. He gazed down at the Brit unwavering, standing proud and strong. It would be quiet easy for him to hurt Arthur; like snapping a toothpick, really, and he would like nothing more than to do so to the man. But that wasn't going to get him Alfred. If he wanted Alfred, then he would have to play nice.

Ivan hated playing nice.

"I'm being serious, damn you. Stay out of my house and stay away from Alfred!" Arthur shouted at him. "Haven't you done enough harm? Do you honestly believe that you can fix this? How do you know that whatever you two had isn't broken for good, eh?"

"Because Alfred wouldn't be here, locked up in his room, if that was the case," Ivan replied as though the answer was quite obvious. And it was. To him, at least. "Don't you want him to stop hurting?"

"Of course I do," Arthur said, heaving a great and heavy sigh as he did so. "But you being here is only going to make matters worse, especially if you break up with him again."

"Silly Britain. I have no intentions of letting him go ever again," Ivan told him, smiling. "He is mine and he will forever be mine. I just came back to reclaim him."

"He wasn't yours to claim in the first place!" Arthur snapped at him, anger flaring brightly in his green eyes.

"Wasn't he?" Ivan asked. "You gave him up, did you not? You could have had him before, but you were greedy and selfish and unable to see what was so clear in front of you. It is due to your own foolishness and stupidity that you lost Alfred to me, da."

"Yes, well, you don't have him now," Arthur said, looking and sounding smug and triumphant.

"Yes, I do," Ivan tells him. "If I did not, then he would not be so hurt, da?"

"I may not be able to make him as happy as you did, but I can still make him happy," Arthur argued and Ivan thought that it sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Ivan.

"I am telling you this now, Britain," Ivan said, his voice soft and cold as snow. "Do not stop me from seeing him because I will do whatever it takes to get him back."

"Even hurt the only father figure Alfred's ever known?" Arthur challenged him. That made Ivan stop cold.

Alfred, despite all of the pain Arthur put him through, still considered the Brit his father, the one who had raised him and had set him on the path to becoming a great super power. He still cared a great deal for him and Ivan knew this all too well. Unfortunately, Arthur had a point; Alfred would be upset if Ivan hurt him. And the younger nation didn't need any more pain, especially from Ivan.

"That's what I thought," Arthur said smugly. "Now, don't try to break into my house again, understand? If you do, I won't show you any mercy."

"Do not threaten me, Britain," Ivan warned him, his eyes flashing dangerously. He pleasure smiled when he saw a frightened shiver run down Arthur's spine. "We both know that I am more than capable of making you regret your words. If you push me, you will fail miserably."

"Even if it meant Alfred hating you forever?" Arthur countered.

"He would forgive me eventually," Ivan answered simply. "He knows how I am."

"The only thing you are is a monster, Russia," Arthur told him before he closed the door yet again. Ivan stared at it, his eyes boring invisible holes into it. How long he stood there, he was not sure, but after a while, he turned and began his trek down the walkway.

Glancing at his phone, Ivan realized that it was half past midnight now. Ivan was not going to leave without Alfred, so, he walked back along the side of the house. If he could only figure out which room was Alfred's, then he would be able to…to do what, exactly? There were no trees close enough to any of the windows for him to climb up one and tap on the window. Perhaps…

Crouching down on the ground, Ivan studied the flower bed closest to the house. He managed to find a handful of small rocks. As cliché as it sounded, the only way he'd be able to get ahold of Alfred would be to throw the stones at his window, when Ivan figured out which window it was, that is. He would try calling him, but whenever he had done so so far, he reached Alfred's voice mail on the first ring. So, calling him was out of the question.

_~…~_

_So tell me how does it feel,_

_How does it feel to be like you?_

_I think your mouth should be quiet_

'_Cause it never tells the truth_

_~…~_

Walking around the house, Ivan stared up at the many windows of the house. When he reached the back of the house, he saw two windows lit up from within. One had to be Arthur's and the other had to be Alfred's. The only problem was which one was which? Since Arthur was dressed in his night clothes, he was bound to go to bed eventually. Ivan had no problem with waiting, no matter how long it took because he would wait a life time for Alfred.

Luckily, Ivan didn't have to wait nearly that long. One of the lights, the one closest to him, was turned off. So, that must have been Arthur's room. He quickly made his way to the second light. All of a sudden, Ivan felt nervous. Would this work? Would Alfred hear him? If he did and came to the window and saw who it was, would he want to talk to him? What if he didn't want anything more to do with Ivan?

No, Alfred loved him more than anything else on the planet. He would want to see him, Ivan was positive of that. And the sentiment was returned; Ivan wanted nothing more than to gaze upon Alfred's beautiful face, to hold him in his arms, kiss his warm skin, and inhale his amazing scent.

Aside from that, though, he needed to repair the damage he had caused him beloved. More than anything else, he needed to do that. Before he got what he wanted, he needed to give Alfred whatever he wanted and he hoped that that was taking away all of the pain and sorrow he had caused him and piecing them back together again. After all, it was hard to live without the other piece of the puzzle, especially when it fit you so very well, perfectly, as a matter of fact.

And it all started with the pebbles in his hand.

Taking a deep breath, Ivan picked one out among the masses and tossed it at the window, making sure that it didn't break or crack the glass. He waited for a minute, then two, and before he knew it, five minutes had passed. Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Ivan picked another one and tossed it at the window.

Never before had he felt this nervous, but then again, he had never had so much on the line before and it was all up to the pebbles in his hand.

_~…~_

_So tell me, so tell me why,_

_Why does it have to be this way?_

_Why can't things ever change?_

_~…~_

He was down to one last pebble, one last chance. It was all or nothing. Ivan wasn't sure what he'd do if Alfred didn't respond. He would probably search for more pebbles and continued. Or maybe he'd just break the window. Surely that would get Alfred's attention. If that didn't, then Ivan didn't know what he'd do, but at least he had a backup plan for now.

Well, here went nothing.

With the same gentle ease that he had been using, Ivan tossed the stone at the still lit window. It made its usual sound, a sort of odd _pang_ that stones made whenever they hit glass, and then the pebble fell away into the darkness somewhere, along with the others he had used.

Ivan waited and then the curtain was drawn back and suddenly there was Alfred.

Oh, he was just as beautiful and as flawless as Ivan remembered. His skin still had that sun-kissed glow, although he looked pale and tired with bags under his red, puffy eyes. Speaking of which, his eyes were still the same bright blue, like the ocean on a summer day or the deep blue sky that appeared after a storm. Dressed in a wrinkled, long sleeve shirt and the Mountain Dew sleep pants that his brother had given him for Christmas one year, Alfred looked like a God, perfect and breathtaking.

Ivan forgot to think, forgot to breath. The world around him melted away until it was only the two of them. He didn't even realize that a tear had slipped from one of his eyes and ran down a pale cheek.

And then, Alfred lifted up his window and Ivan's breath caught in his throat.

"Ivan?" Alfred called out, his voice sounding hoarse and rough, so unlike his usual self. "Ivan? Are…are you really there?"

The hope and fear in that innocent question nearly broke Ivan's heart. He stepped forward and gave Alfred a smile.

"Yes, hа прошлой неделе," Ivan replied. "I'm really here."

"What…what are you doing here?" Alfred asked him, hugging himself. He looked so young and vulnerable. Ivan wanted to rush up there, embrace him, and take away all of his pain.

"Это где мое сердце," Ivan told him.

"What?" Alfred asked, shaking his head.

"This is where my heart is," he explained. And it was true. Wherever Alfred was, that's where his heart would be. Always.

He watched as Alfred chewed on his bottom lip, looking nervous and apprehensive and sad and heartbroken. Ivan's heart ached as he saw firsthand the damage he had done. But he was going to fix it, he was going to tell Alfred that he hadn't meant any of what he had said when they broke up, and he was going to spend forever making it up to his beloved.

"You broke up with me, Ivan," Alfred said and Ivan could hear the tears that were threatening to fall.

"I know this and…and I've regretted doing so since the words left my lips," Ivan confessed to him, being completely honest with the younger nation.

"Then why didn't you stop me from leaving?" Alfred demanded, his body beginning to tremble.

"Because…because I was afraid," Ivan replied, his voice cracking as he gazed up at his lover. He could clearly see the pain he had caused Alfred and it broke his heart. What had he been thinking when he broke up with him? Oh yes, that's right; he hadn't been thinking.

"Afraid of what?" Alfred asked, chewing on his bottom lip once more.

"Afraid that you would eventually leave me," Ivan said. At that, Alfred stopped hugging himself and instead leaned on the window sill. If he wanted to, Ivan could reach up and pretend that he could touch his dearly beloved.

"I have no intention of leaving you," Alfred told him and Ivan was so happy that he used present tense. The younger nation continued with, "Why did you ever think that I would? After all we shared and went through…"

"Everyone leaves me. Everyone. No matter what I do or say, they've all left me," Ivan explained to him, desperate to have Alfred back in his arms. "The fear gripped me with you too and it messed with my brain and made it all funny."

"Yeah, I get that. Fear can make us do a lot of stupid things," Alfred said softly, nodding to himself.

"Da. I would have come for you sooner but…but I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me and I was still afraid," Ivan continued. "You do not need a coward; you need someone who can protect you and keep you safe. I am confident that I can do that now."

"I always want to see you, Ivan, and I still love you. I would even if you were a coward," Alfred told him.

"Alfred…I know that it's asking a lot, but…would you come down here? Please?" Ivan asked of him, his heart pounding the whole time, fearing that Alfred would tell him no.

_~…~_

_So come down, come down from your tower now_

_Come down now from your tower, oh_

_~…~_

Alfred didn't say anything and Ivan waited with bated breath for his answer. What he got was the window closing and the curtain falling back over the window as Alfred stepped back. No. No, no, no, no, no, no! He needed Alfred back, he needed his heart, the other piece to his puzzle more than he needed air to breathe. His heart was pounding so loudly that he couldn't hear anything else.

Shocked and dazed, Ivan stumbled away from the window and began to walk to the front of the house. He supposed that that was his answer. Alfred, apparently, had taken all that he could take from Ivan. Had he been wrong? But…but he knew Alfred, he _knew_ Alfred…

Just as he reached the walkway, the door to the house opened. There, standing in the doorway, illuminated by the warm light, was Alfred. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he didn't look as sad and heartbroken anymore. Actually, he looked determined and excited. Ivan could only stand there and gaze at him, stuck dumb by the gorgeous created before him.

He watched as Alfred ran towards him and then his arms were of the young American. Ivan released a gasp as his arms automatically wrapped themselves possessively and protectively around Alfred's waist as the force of the embrace caused them both to fall over. Landing on his back on the cool ground, Ivan could only laugh in happiness and joy as tears fell down his cheeks. Alfred was sobbing into his coat and clinging onto him as though his life depended on it and Ivan clung back because he knew that his life _did_ depend on it.

_~…~_

_Come down, come down from your tower_

_Come down, come down, come down from your tower_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_~…~_

Ivan gently cupped Alfred's face in his hands, his fingers soon becoming wet with the younger nation's tears. His violet eyes stared into blue ones, seeing the unconditional love and acceptance and forgiveness that he didn't deserve but that he was going to work on forever to become worthy of it. Without another thought, Ivan pressed their lips together in a kiss that was so sweet it would have melted the coldest ice.

It was everything; it was the _only_ thing. Ivan sighed happily into the kiss and he felt Alfred's arms wrap themselves around his neck and moan. His body fit so well against Ivan's; they truly were a perfect match, but then again, he had already known that. Their lips moved together in the sweetest, most passionate dance ever known to man. He moaned into it and suddenly, he felt whole again, like he finally had his heart back.

When they parted, Ivan could have wept some more. He didn't want to be parted from Alfred or his lips; he wanted to remain where they were, forever locked in each other's embrace as they kissed. But they both needed air in their burning lungs. Panting, he stared lovingly into Alfred's face and he was more than happy to see that the American looked like himself yet again.

"We…uh, we need to get upstairs to my room," Alfred told him, his voice raspy and panting, barely above a whisper.

"Why is that, любимый?" Ivan asked him, slightly confused. His mind had stopped working; he had stopped thinking. How could he think when he finally had Alfred back in his arms?

"Because I want you to make love to me," Alfred answered him, his eyes lidded before he kissed Ivan. Ivan returned the kiss with just as much passion and when Alfred's body moved against his own, he could feel his lover's desire brush against his own.

"I am liking the sound of that," Ivan said and without a moment's hesitation, he had Alfred in his arms and was standing up.

Carrying Alfred bridal style, he moved into the house, closing the door behind them softly so as not to wake Arthur. The last thing he wanted right then and there was for the Brit to wake up and see them as they were about to make love. With gentle ease, Ivan carried the younger nation upstairs and to the room that Alfred was using. Ivan was glad to see that it was far from Arthur's room.

Laying him gently on the bed, Ivan gazed down at Alfred, a loving smile on his face. Bending down, he kissed him gently before he pulled back.

"I love you," he told him, pushing every ounce of feeling he had into those three little words. The smile Alfred gave him outshone the sun and made Ivan's heart melt once more.

"And I love you, Ivan," Alfred answered him.

In the morning, when Arthur would find them naked among the sheets and blankets, sleeping soundly in each other's arms, a shouting match would commence between the Brit and the Russian until Alfred stepped in. Before for now, neither one of them thought of that. All they could think of was each other and how they were finally, at long last, whole again.

_~…~_

_Come down, come down from your tower_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Come down, come down from your tower_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Come down, come down from your tower_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh_

_Come down, come down from your tower_

_~…~_

**~…~**

**The End**

**~…~**

Hа прошлой неделе – my beloved

Это где мое сердце – This is where my heart is

Любимый – beloved

A/N: Well, there you have it, folks. I hope you liked it. The lyrics are owned by Sleeping with Sirens. The translations I got off of the Google translator.


End file.
